Hurried preparations, and the Bacchanal is here.

Titus's slaves are not exactly sure of their function.  They are new to this whole slavery gig, up until quite recently they were living a pastoral life on a remote island, someplace, as far as Titus is able to understand, quite sunny and generally left alone because no one thought anything important was there.  Since then, life has been fairly miserable- kept in a ship for a while, and then in cages in the crowded, smelly area of this... whatever it is.

"City".

That is new to them as well.  They've heard the term, as a description for "Place that Humans come from" but no one ever told them what it was actually like.

They look lost.

Meanwhile... guests.  Many, of course, will arrive fashionably late.  No sense in being the awkward first guest when a party hasn't even begun.  Unless you are a priest of Bacchus.  In their case, they fully understand this is really all about their odd little cult, and the party can't even start until they show up.  There's the blessings for the wine, for example.  What's a party without wine and who is going to drink unblessed wine?

So the retinue from the Temple of Bacchus, Alucio the priest and two assistants, make their entrance early, quite happy that someone has actually decided to do this.

Once Titus figures out which are leaders at least seem to be able to understand his efforts to speak with them, he takes those individuals into an office and orders that the others are taken to the pool in the atrium where they might be more comfortable and ordered food to be brought to them.

When in the office he begins the process of explaining that his intention is to free them when it is safe to do so. That may be a while, though, because he does not wish to enable others to learn of this island from which they have come. Until that time, they will be his slaves and he will protect them.

The one thought that has pestered him on their return from the slave market is that if he has them at the Bacchanal that will only raise other's interest in them. It will effectively advertise their existence. In a Goth city... That is dangerous not only because it might inspire more slavers to find their island, but if an Orc wants to kill one of his elf slaves what will he be able to do to protect them?

As a result he decides NOT to have them at the party. Rather he will keep them here and hope that news of his purchase will be drown out by other news.

Otherwise, he will prepare himself to attend the party.

Bryon came to the party with the Princess, and took it upon herself to introduce her friend. She would all but shove he actual caller aside wanting the attention for herself, ”Presenting the most wonderful, beautiful, and intelligent Princess in the whole entire world plus all the places too. Princess Gondioque, who wants to meet each and every one of you and be your own personal friend.” She turned and grinned at the Princess as if she had just done the very best job at introducing her ever! The she said, as an after though, ”Oh! I’m Bryon of Helvectia, and I am pleased to meet you all as well. OK Back to your bachanalle and boozing and eating.”

Bryon does not understand when something is suppose to be done with stealth in mind, if she does things stealthy it is a happy accident. She searches the room for the man who seems to have the most money and seems to be alone and...well...makes her move. ”Hello there, I am Bryon. I would like to be your friend. Would you like a friend?”

Gondioque coughs as Bryon finishes her introduction before smiling and saying Thank you. Lady Bryon. Your enthusiasm is heartening. Let us each mingle and enjoy these good folk, events, and provender.

Especially with Bryon's announcement, eyes are upon Gondioque: Appearance, jewelry, clothing, mien, and (most unusual for a human in Massilia) her dagger and rapier (even if the rapier is peace-knotted)—but perhaps ambassadors/princesses are entitled to such freedom.

Gondioque takes wine and can be seen to partake now and then. She mingles, at ease, to see and to be approached.

One group of Massilia residents with no representation at the Bacchanal at all: the Gnomes.  The city has been a major center of commerce for centuries.  Naturally, like all the greatest centers of commerce, a Gnomish Quarter appeared.  Gnomes run the most important banks, and are responsible for the financial mysteries through which Gold Pieces always seem to be in adequate supply and are worth exactly One Gold Piece Each, whether minted in Alexandria or Londinium.  Most people just take it for granted, but somehow, the Gnomes are doing it.  Gnomes consider themselves dignified little beings, with great self respect, and would respond to any invitation for an even like this with a “With Regrets”.

Orcs are few, but they are here.   The rest are Human, drawn from the upper class of the city.  The cogs in the wheels of commerce, the people who keep money flowing into the city and then to the Orcish Visigoth overlords.  Titus counts his neighbors as a significant fraction of the party goers, because his home is in a refuge for the rich- the seaward promontory on the southwest side of the city is favored not only because it has wonderful views, but because with the sea breeze you cannot smell the rest of Massilia.  Orcs are not known for hygienic practices.

Bryon is in, to her, the most favorable environment she could imagine, except for one small factor; the men who seek companionship here are certainly not thinking long term.  The night, possibly.  The next half hour or so, perhaps.  She’s worked in a very fine inn, but they catered especially to travelers, she is not nearly as familiar with the upper class as Titus is, even if he is years out of date.

She does know, though, that the musicians hired by Fanclo Ancius, though attractive and very sparkly, are not the top of the wealth pyramid here.  They just fake it well.  They fake it well enough to get their fair share of attention from the opposite sex… or the not so opposite, depending.

There is Alsus Mucidia, wealthy landowner.  Legally, he owns a lot of farm land to the south of the city.  Realistically, given the Visigoth leadership, he is a well paid manager- though he is entitled to his share of the take, the Visigoths would make him envy his own slaves if he ever stepped out of line.  That is how order is kept.  The rich maintain things for the Visigoths, because they have a long way to fall if they don’t.  He has begun drinking early… as long as it is someone else’s wine, Alsus has no reason to be careful.  But he’s pacing himself, he has a way to go.

Rasula Amminus is someone Bryon has seen before.  The woman is a rarity- a woman head of household.  She is here with a retinue- family and servants, the family being the better dressed ones, all staying near her.  They seem to be using a phalanx approach to the festivities.
Parthus Cenegins is a reclusive and evasive old coot who owns urban property and rents it out.  He’s rarely seen, but has apparently decided he had to see this.

The elders of the Hospidias family have too much caution for things like this these days, but the younger brothers Felix and Betis are here, and clearly on the prowl for good times.  They live close to Titus.

Vitian Bastior is another rich neighbor of Titus.  He is a young semi-heir to the family:  he will probably get some reasonable share, with the majority going to others closer in the line of succession.  Still, he’s a very wealthy young bachelor as Massilian social life goes.

Out of all the possible “targets” Bryon is most interested in Parthus Cenegins, mostly because she has not seen him before, but also because he is a bit older and he seems to be keeping his head about him and not trying to get toasted. She saunters toward him, her hips swaying invitingly. She smiled brightly as she threaded her arm into his and whispered to him,

Drecht Bloodrattle, small time privateer, gladly takes free food free entertainment and boasts his exploits.

He shows all the crude behavior expected of an Orc and keeps his ears open for information and signs of sedition.

+20 on disguise self +13 Bluff +2 more to convince Orcs, +15 gather information
Druk uses this disguise and his class feature mimic often in his life as a finder.
Druk has the skill trick second impression to allow a bluff check if his disguise is ever blown.

Not sure rolling is needed but Druk in disguise will enjoy the party and gather what info he can on other Orcs or Orc friendly rumors while enjoying himself. 

Bryon starts making a friend.

Parthus Cenegins is a stranger to her, but the old coot is wilier than he looks.  He seems to know who Bryon is!  The "Cabreus House Girl" he calls her.  He mentions having seen her around, and he knows she is employed there.  Or something like that.  Whatever the case, he believes her to be a servant of some kind, and not a daughter of an important family.

Well of course not.  Important families don't let daughters loose at functions like this.  Socially, widows are permitted to be somewhat freer, as they aren't still assumed to be saving anything for marriage.  But the very wealthy know that in the all important marriage market, some reputations significantly decrease worth.

Of course, servants just don't show up uninvited.  There are a number of servant women here, not merely the staff, and a few extra hostesses hired for the night, but some brought along with guests.  So the first and most important question for the wily old coot is..

"Who are you with, sweet thing?"

Meanwhile, Druk hangs around the few other Orcs that have chosen to attend.  Like teenagers at a children's party, the Orcs mostly stay with themselves, telling each other how ridiculous the whole affair is, and bragging about what they would do if they were holding a celebration.  There would be battles, of course, and contests to bet on.  Feats of strength and endurance!

At least there is a lot to drink. The Orcs really don't where to stop with wine, Druk learns.  They normally avoid it, considering it sweet.  When Orcs drink they prefer a strong, bitter brew.  But no Orc-draught is here, and so they drink wine, all the while protesting how weak and sweet it is.  Fitting for children, fairies, and Elves.

They are, however, getting slowly inebriated on the stuff, all while insisting they are not.

As for spilling secrets.. .they well might, they do seem to be loosening their lips.  But they are not talking politics and military deployments at the moment.  Druk can attempt to steer conversations towards things he would like to know about, or, he can settle for whatever tidbits they offer up- chance bits of gossip about other Orcs, mostly.

Bryon pegged him as a “dirty old man” one of the many favors men came in and one of the best because they oft had experience on their side. She giggled at him calling her sweet, but then she poked her lip out. Had he not been listening? But then a lightbulb went off for her, he must have hearing problems. She raised her voice slightly so she would be sure he heard her, ”The Princess Gondioque Bourgogne brought me with her personal ritanue. I had the very important job of introducing her just a moment ago...”

Then she changed the subject, ”What brings an important man like you here tonight?”

Parthus Cenegins is a little hesitant after he hears about Bryon's current employer.  One had to be a little cautious when dealing with foreign guests, and their retinues.  One didn't want to make enemies in Masillia.  The Orcs generally saw to it that one had enough.

"A foreign princess, eh?  The Burgundians are Germanic folk.  Different ways, you know.  Have you ever been to a party like... like this, before?  Do you know about how they honor Bacchus? "

** **  **

Meanwhile, Druk continues to listen to and observe Orcs.

A few talk to themselves about the strange habits of Humans.  Why celebrate a god like Bacchus?  In a true, proper system of gods, Bacchus would be a servant at best, brewing up drink when the warrior gods demanded it.  What is so important?

Human and Elven foolishness.  Bacchus, they declare, is worthy only of being a servant.  An Orc declares he would happily plunder the temple... if it had anything good.  Wine casks and old tile mosaics with birds and flowers.  Of what use is that?

Bryon nodded, "Yes but she is the nicest person you would ever meet. Would you like to meet her? I can introduce you. I'm foreign too, Helvectia is Celtic territory." She began pulling him to meet the princess. She laughed at his question about parties. "You Romans think you invented everything. Parties, wine, sex, heck to hear you tell it your people were suckled by wolves, killed Ol-ie-phants, and burned down Troy after you sacked it. Celts throw sex parties too. This," She swept her hand across the scene before her, "Is what we call Tuesday." She went on, "Celts don't see marriage the way Romans do. To us, married is kind of...a convenience. See when husband is away trading or raiding or warring, wife can take a lover or two, likewise can Husband. When he is home they are exclusive. Celtic men value wide hips and large breast for breeding stout healthy babies more than whether or not she's had sex before." Then she grinned and leaned into him again,

Having pulled him to Gondioque, Bryon makes an attempt at introductions, "Princess Gondioque, may I present Parthus… uhhh… Cinnamon. He is a very nice man, he has offered to teach all about Bacchanals. Isn't that exciting?"

Bryon's explanations notwithstanding, protocols must be observed.  Bryon, Parthus has decided, is a servant, Gondioque a mistress, and one does not play with a servant without at least a tacit permission from the master or mistress.

"Your girl seems playful," he says to Gondioque.  "You are.. Burgundian?  Interesting, that Burgundian interest is reviving here.  There was a time... well, water under a bridge or two.  Younger and more promising days.  Burgundians helped hold off... them.. you know.. for a while.  Anyway, as I said... Bryon... playful.   Interesting girl."

Gondioque nods graciously and takes sip of Burgundy: Grand cru Gevrey-Chambertin.

"Ambassador from Burgundy, actually," she smiles. "And, fittingly, I'm drinking wine from a vineyard from which my father receives such treasure as this. (She taps her cage cup.) I hold it fortunate that after the turmoil of the past decades with the recent trouble to our north and northwest, there seems to be peace....much more pleasant and profitable than war. I hope that the situation will allow an increase in trade. Still, I'm uncertain the seas are safe, unsure of the Vandals and all. Here in Massilia, the things seem peaceful and stable.

"Regarding Bryon, she is associated with the Cabreus House, where I've made my office and residence. She greets people, makes them feel welcome. I hold her a friend, and she—a free woman—chooses to act as a servant to me. If one is nice to her, she will be nice right back. I've never observed anybody being less than nice to her. Sometimes nice like a flower being visited by a bee, the flower being tickled, giving and receiving. It would grieve me to see her ill-treated.

"Master Cenegins, I believe you hold certain properties?"

Druk heartily agrees with the others and mocks a toast to the god of whoring and drink.
But as a pirate the stories of loot to be pillaged still gains his attention.

Yes yes, but surely all of the human temples were emptied of all value.  Is there anything left an old trader can liberate? Eh? Do you know I’d any.

Parthus Cenegins's eyes go back and forth, Bryon to Gondioque and back.  Bryon will have to wait... for the moment, a Very Important Person is speaking to them.

"Oh, I own a few... shops and insulae, I am an urban landowner only, no ships or great estate or vinyard... though, now I wish I had one.  Here... it is hardly ownership these days.  I am a glorified rent collector.  I collect, I keep some, I pass on most to the Orcs.  If you want to call anyone owner these days, it is them. Horrible creatures, they have come by nothing honestly."

And speaking of Orcs, meanwhile.. Druk talks to one.

The Orc tribe-chief gives Druk a worried look.

"Bacchus and Venus we allow to keep their trinkets, let the Humans kneel before these weakest of godlings.  Neptune... we need the blessings of the sea, it is a cold deal but a necessary one.  But Minerva, that one... that one is locked away, and the treasures of her... her "academy" are not yet ours.  They locked up her treasures in that vile place.  Putrid magic swirling around and inside, many brave scouts were lost.  They say Minerva is the goddess of Battle Trickery*.  One day, the place will fall to us.  The last priestesses will slip, and give up the secrets of its defense, and we shall take it.  A glorious day, that day.  I don't think a trader can do it.  It is a job for great warriors... and a few shamans who can defeat the magic."






*Minerva is also a war goddess.  As Goddess of Wisdom, Humans would credit Minerva with wise strategy in battle.  She was invoked as Minerva Armipotens in this aspect.  But to Orcs, Human strategy is written off as "trickery".

Gondioque nods in sympathy. Doubtless their...taxes are more than one might wish, and we Burgundians no longer have slavery. Still, those gentlemen over there are behaving seemingly, and Massilia is at peace. And it seems they care little about how one speaks of them provided one acts as they wish, including tenants.

By the way, there is a new message and package delivery service,  Nuntius Partum Celeri, quick and discreet. If necessary, security can travel along for an extra fee. The service knows where my embassy is.

"The Orcs don't consider a party a party unless there is blood,"  Parthus Cenegins says with a quick glance in the direction of the Orcs.

"And they don't bother me except to demand their money.  It's true it's peace, but it's a poor peace.  I'm not just being polite, it was better when we had Burgundians here.  Most people are too young to remember.  I remember.  Burgundians didn't make you feel that were something worthy only of being stepped on."

He turns to Bryon.

"I'm sorry if such talk breaks the mood.  I... keep to myself, mostly.  Some things just bring that out of me.  But why don't you lighten our evening?  You are a hostess, and yet you don't have to host here!  What does a hostess due when not hosting?"